


The Golden Age of Detective Fiction

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: 'As is' Means With All Faults [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 06:37:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: This ficlet takes place sometime after the events of Chapter 25 in "Recording Our History on The Bedroom Wall." It's sort of a Marvel end-credits type scene. Imagine that it's going on off-stage in the same AU as my main Darcy/Steve/Brock love triangle in the "As Is Means With All Faults" series. Also, Stephen gets to keep his lovely British accent in my stories and is an ex-pat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meilan_Firaga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/gifts).



**The day after the events of Chapter 25 in "Recording Our History on The Bedroom Wall"**

 

Darcy was too anxious to work; between Brock being gone and waiting for it to have been time enough to take a pregnancy test, she was a bundle of nerves. It made her grumpy. She’d actually snapped at Tony.

“Itty Bitty,” he said gently, “I really am sorry about that.”

“I know. I know,” she said softly. “I didn’t really think you’d made us faulty condoms so you could have a godson. I’m just a little freaked out right now.” She was actually a lot freaked out. What would Brock say if she was pregnant? Jane was convinced that Brock would be delighted, but Darcy found herself plagued by doubts.

“What if you do something tonight to get your mind off things?” Tony offered. “Didn’t you want to see that singer? I could get tickets for you and Jane.”

Tony got her tickets for Lucy Woodward. She loved Lucy Woodward.

 

Only there was a minor Science! Emergency in the labs and Bruce and Jane were actually arguing when Darcy returned. They never argued. 

“I will not let him see this, I don’t care what crazy artifacts he has,” Jane was saying hotly.

“Jane,” Bruce said softly. “What if he could help?” It was really more of a one sided argument with Bruce. He was so gentle.

“Guys, what is going on?” Darcy asked, utterly baffled.

“He wants to bring Asshat Strange in for a consult. With my Science!,” Jane said, torn between horror and hostility.

“He did try to help Brock,” Darcy offered, giving Bruce a subtly sympathetic glance. Just for a second. Not where Jane could see, since she was busy pacing.

“Okay, fine, he did, but I still don’t trust him,” Jane said, throwing her arms up.

“You could give him a chance,” Bruce offered gently.

“I agree, Jane, you’re getting as twitchy about him as you are about Fury. And he’s never laid a hand on your duct tape,” Darcy said.

“Traitor,” Jane muttered. But she relented.

 ***

A few minutes later, Stephen Strange was standing in the lab, having emerged from one of his sparkler portals. Darcy regretted that it didn’t have that smoky smell that sparklers had; it reminded her of the Fourth of July.

“Have you ever thought of making that scented?” she asked him.

“Pardon me?” he said.

“It reminds me of sparklers--the little handheld fireworks--so, I was thinking it might neat if it had that smell they have?” she said. “Like summer and the Fourth of July.”

“That had honestly never occurred to me,” he said in a quiet, somber voice. “They’re metal compounds in a coating, you know. You’re smelling the compounds that are bound to the stick itself. They spark when you light them because the metal is burning.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said.

“I worked the ER during one phase of my medical residency, you see a lot of burns on the Fourth of July. I looked it up. I’d just moved here, I had no idea what people were doing,” he said. Then he actually smiled at her. “In England, you mostly see them on Guy Fawkes night. They always remind me of fall.”

Once he’d contributed to the Science! Question, Darcy was going to drag Jane off to the concert. Only Jane wouldn’t budge. She didn’t want to leave the lab for, ahem, reasons. Those reasons were probably linked to the dirty looks she kept giving Strange. Darcy sighed. With Thor gone with Brock, she had no reinforcements to call in.

“I’ll go with you,” Strange said suddenly. “Who are you seeing?”

“Lucy Woodward,” Darcy said. She felt stuck. Jane had already been rude to the poor man; she couldn’t exactly disinvite him now. He wasn’t a fool, he must know what Jane was being so intractable about. “All righty, then,” she said. “Are you ready to go now?”

“Is this appropriate?” he asked. He was wearing tidy street clothes: dark jeans, a navy peacoat, black t-shirt, and scarf. It was--and here Darcy thought of Eloise and had to resist the urge to reply in an Eloise accent--rather dashing.

“I think that you’ll be the most stylish man there,” she said, trying to paper over the whole Jane situation. He looked pleased at that. And at a concert, she thought, he’d be looking at the stage. No uncomfortable staring.

In no time, he’d portaled them to the concert venue. Thankfully, he was perfectly polite. It was just that Darcy spent all her time wishing Brock was there. Also, it was weird to sit with a strange man--er, strange doctor?--when Lucy Woodward belted out “Hot and Bothered.” Strange seemed a little fidgety, too. It was a sexy song. Lucy Woodward shook her hips while she sang. Brock would have loved it.

 ***

When it was over, he offered to take her to dinner.

“Oh, you really don’t have to, Stephen,” Darcy said. He’d asked her to call him Stephen.

“It would be entirely for my benefit, Darcy. At home it’s just the cloak and myself. The cloak has opinions on many matters, but it’s not exactly a conversationalist,” he said dryly.

“I can talk, I’m good at talking,” Darcy said, laughing.

“I am aware,” Strange said. He took her to a little Thai restaurant. When she declined the wine, he quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m torn between telling you what’s up because you’re a doctor and not telling you because you’re British and I don’t think a British person would,” Darcy said.

“Would what?” he asked.

“Well,” she said, drawing out the last letter, “Let’s just say Stark Industries has not yet invented perfect birth control. Tony bought those tickets as an apology. Is that polite?”

“You’re pregnant?” he asked, smiling.

“I don’t know yet, I’m waiting to take the test,” she said.

“Ah,” he said. “Well, congratulations to you and Captain Rogers, should you be blessed.”

“Oh, God, I forgot you missed the post-Christmas Kerfuffle. Steve dumped me. It’s not his,” she said. “It would be Brock’s baby, actually.”

“Ah,” he said again, looking distinctly, well, _strange._

“I’m sorry. I’m the weirdest woman. This is probably unbearable for you. I’m sure they don’t even say it on the news when the Queen is pregnant in England and she’s only been with one man in her her whole life,” she said. At that, he actually laughed. He had the funniest full smile. Darcy thought it made him look like a pleased otter. After a few moments, he composed himself.

 

“No, I was merely thinking that your ex-husband would be delighted. He loves you very much,” Strange said.

“You know that?” Darcy asked.

“My dear woman,” he said, “if they had milkmen in this country, your milkman would know. Everyone knows. He is absolutely besotted with you.”

Once they’d moved over that bit of awkwardness, she asked him about himself. It turned out he’d gone to one of those grand old English private schools and Cambridge.

“You’re a PG Wodehouse character,” Darcy said, laughing.

“Bingo Little at your service, ma’am,” he said, doing a little half bow in his chair. That turned into talking about their favorite British writers. He surprised Darcy by being a fan of Golden Age mystery writers. “My grandmother’s older sister worked for the publishers who handled the Christie estate,” he told her, “so mysteries were a family obsession for them. She left me all her old books.”

“With the cool cover art?” Darcy asked.

“I have quite a few of the Tom Adams covers,” he admitted. “Also, some first edition Marsh and Sayers.”

“Oh, that is so awesome. Wimsey and Alleyn,” she sighed.

“You’re a fan of Marsh as well as Sayers?” he asked.

“The relationship between him and Troy in _Artists in Crime_ , especially,” she said. He nodded.

“I know everyone says he’s Marsh’s parody of Wimsey, but I find him compelling,” she continued. “And Marsh has her own talents.”

“She describes landscape and setting much better than Christie,” he said. “She’s a little more streamlined than Sayers. I could never get through _The Nine Tailors._ ”

“Ugh, don’t mention the bells!” she said. “I always wished Leslie Howard had been able to play Peter Wimsey, though,” Darcy said. “He has those lovely hands, just like Lord Peter.”

“Perfect casting,” he said. “But who would play Harriet Vane?”

They debated the competing merits of Myrna Loy, Barbara Stanwyck, and Bette Davis as Harriet as they ate. Darcy offered to loan him her copy of Marsh’s _Dyed in the Wool._ “It has the most creepy opening sequence, I love it so much,” she told him.

*** 

 

When he portaled her back to the facility, she got him the book and he tucked it gently into the pocket of his coat.

“This is an old copy,” he said softly. “It’s fragile.”

“I got it for $2 at a library booksale, it’s no family heirloom,” she said. “I promise I won’t mind if you spill tea on it.”

 

The next morning, a courier arrived with a crisp copy of Anthony Berkeley’s 1929 mystery, _The Poisoned Chocolates Case._ There was also a box of delicious-looking chocolates and a note.

 

_Dear Miss Lewis--_

_Though perhaps it will be Mrs. Rumlow again soon enough?_

_I had a wonderful evening. I send these as a small gesture of appreciation for your company. The chocolates are unpoisoned, of course._

_I hope that you will get the answer you desire to your question. You will be delighted to find that we did finally admit in Britain that the Queen was pregnant, circa Prince Andrew.  I am enjoying your Marsh. I shall never look at a bale of wool in quite the same way again._

 

_Regards,_

_Stephen_

 

Darcy tried to ply Jane into giving up her grudge against him by bribing her with the hazelnut-filled chocolates; they were Jane’s favorites. It had been a very nice dinner. She suspected that somewhere, under the cloak, there was a shy boy reading Agatha Christie by flashlight in a boarding school dorm.

 


	2. To Quote Another Fictional Jane: 'Reader, I Married Him'*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *SPOILERS AHOY!*
> 
> This chapter takes place following the events of "Recording Our History On The Bedroom Wall" and will spoil the end for you. Slightly. As the Cloak might say, provided it could talk, it might be bad form if you want to remain in suspense about the whole Darcy/Steve/Brock love triangle in my main AU.

Excerpt of a letter, addressed to one Dr. Steven Strange, Bleeker St., NYC, hereafter referred to as:

 

_Most Charming Correspondent and Fellow Friend of Agatha,_

 

_……...I hear that you spoke to Bruce before he left on his extended vacation? We are all a little shopworn, you might say, if you said that sort of thing. Isn’t that how a Victorian gentleman would put it? Phil Coulson might be the closest thing we make in this country (I once saw him carry a cane very elegantly. You are the only other man I know who could do it; also, Rita Hayworth’s evil husband in Gilda, but he was a Nazi, so it doesn’t count. His cane had a sword in it. You might want to think on that as a defensive weapon, should your portal go asunder. Don’t scoff, it happens. Last week, actually, that’s what made Bruce decide he needed the vacation)._

 

_I have been thinking of goodness. I believe it was your country’s most famous Jane--the namesake of my Jane and also me, ironically--who once wrote that ‘some men have all the appearance of goodness and others the actual substance of it’? It keeps bouncing around in my head this week, as I watch everyone try to sort themselves out. Helen is coming to consult with Col. Rhodes next week._

 

_Warmest Regards,_

 

_The once and future Darcy Rumlow._

 

_PS: Send my love to the Cloak. Have you thought of a more personal name yet? What about Evelyn? Or is the Cloak more of a Geoffrey?_

  


Excerpt of a letter addressed to the future Mrs. Darcy Rumlow, upstate NY, hereafter known as:

 

_Most Charming Correspondent and Alleyn Aficionado,_

 

 _….I believe you will find that the Austen line in question--spoken by Lizzy Bennet’s Aunt Gardiner--is as follows:_   
_  
_ "There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it."

 

_I congratulate you in your felicity in choosing the correct young man. I received my invitation only this morning. Would it be too much to hope that I can wear a top hat and morning coat to the ceremony? No one else will let me dust off the old glad rags for their weddings in America, but it may delight you to have me dressed as an antique penguin in your official photographs. Your husband will certainly laugh._

 

_Yours, as ever,_

 

_Bingo Little_

 

_PS: The Cloak seems very positively inclined to the name Roderick. I blame your Marsh novels._

_PS II: You were absolutely right about Margery Allingham. Horribly depressing. I portaled it straight to the used bookstore in the next block._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ch. title inspiration: Neither Austen nor Foster. Jane Eyre, of course. 
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely comments and kudos

**Author's Note:**

> *For all the Stephen Strange/Darcy Lewis shippers. Y'all are the nicest!


End file.
